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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867298">and it scares you being alone (it's a last resort)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Ficlet, M/M, Nightmares, bear with me okay this is my first time posting and tags are wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:15:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>3:48am is a weirdly emotional time of night/morning.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and it scares you being alone (it's a last resort)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey y'all!!<br/>i don't really write very much but this has been in my tumblr drafts for months now and it's late so i figured what the hell, may as well go crazy n post it!! n e ways like,,, fallen cas gets me so emotional,,, like what abt him dealing with human stuff for the first time? what abt the weird bits, like dreams and nightmares n stuff?<br/>i enjoy abusing the italics feature<br/>title's from sleepsong by bastille :)<br/>enjoy!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cas knows about nightmares. Hell, living with the Winchesters in the bunker? Of course he does. He’s encountered either one or the other in the kitchen at frankly ungodly hours of the night/morning more times than he’d care to count: Sam, filling a glass of water under the tap with shaking hands, offering Cas a forced smile before heading back to his room; Dean, with that distant look in his eyes, nursing a coffee, barely aware of Cas’s presence. He’s never had one himself- it’s nights like that where, as he perches on the counter next to Dean and they sit in comfortable silence, he’s grateful for the fact that angels don’t sleep.</p>
<p>The first one catches him off guard. It’s maybe the fourth night after he’s fallen, the first night he’s properly slept rather than virtually passing out the moment he hits the pillow from newfound human exhaustion and as his eyes snap open and he remembers how to breathe again, he allows himself a detached moment of <em>so this is what it’s like to be human</em> before pushing down the tears threatening to spill and pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He sits there in the dark for a moment and tries to rationalise the constricting pull of panic in his chest. It’s so painfully illogical- he knows he’s here, in the bunker and he knows it’s not real but still his heart is beating far too fast in his chest and his head feels like it is buzzing with thoughts and he feels a little like if he let his guard down, the dark could swallow him whole and leave nothing left.</p>
<p>He slides out of bed and pads down the hallway to the kitchen.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how long he’s been sat alone, slumped over the counter, not thinking about the painfully white lights and not thinking about that unnervingly cool voice and not thinking about blood on his hands, the feel of his angel blade glancing off bone, when he notices a light flick on from down the hall. Glancing up briefly, he sees Dean <em>("I won’t hurt Dean")</em> leaning against the doorframe, bleary-eyed.</p>
<p>“Cas? What’re you doing up?”</p>
<p>
  <em>(and he straightens up and looks down at what he’s done)</em>
</p>
<p>Cas doesn’t answer, instead watching as Dean grabs two mugs from the cupboard, pours them coffee and shuffles over to hand him one, which he accepts gratefully, cupping it in both hands. It’s soothingly warm, like he could melt into it and he catches Dean looking at him out of the corner of his eye, lingering on the way the warm glow of the kitchen lights catch on his green eyes <em>(lifeless, under fluorescent lights, they almost look grey)</em>, highlighting the almost imperceptible dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose.</p>
<p>“You okay?”</p>
<p>
  <em>(then he looks around, drifting over the countless bodies, all the same)</em>
</p>
<p>Cas considers the question for a moment. He’s not hurt, he supposes. There’s no danger. No reason to feel almost paralysed by fear, sliding from the pit of his gut up into his throat like a snake, twisting and curling, taking all the words waiting there and choking them, forcing them back. He’s silent when he nods, still gazing into the depths of his coffee mug like it could drown him.</p>
<p>“Nightmare?”</p>
<p>“I believe so.”</p>
<p>“You wanna talk about it?”</p>
<p>Hell, he’s not even sure he can look Dean in the eye right now, let alone tell him-</p>
<p>
  <em>(all Dean)</em>
</p>
<p>“I’d rather not”</p>
<p>“Alright.”</p>
<p>They sit like that for a little while longer, silence stretched out between them.</p>
<p>“Do you?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Cas knows that distant, slightly wild shift to Dean’s eyes too well; knows there’s a reason he’s here at 3:48am.</p>
<p>“You also had a nightmare, correct?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah. No, not really,”</p>
<p>He sets his now-empty mug down on the counter, rubbing one hand across his eyes.</p>
<p>“Are you gonna be okay? Tonight, I mean. they’re kinda rough, ‘specially the first couple and I mean- if you wanted to...” He trails off.</p>
<p>“If I wanted to what?”</p>
<p>“Never mind.”</p>
<p>Cas watches as Dean sighs and drops his mug into the sink to deal with in the morning before turning back to him.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna head back to bed, so... make sure you get some sleep, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Dean.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Cas isn’t sure what compels him to say it. His head is somewhere between exhaustion and the edge of fear and something deep inside him is tugging at his heart, saying <em>please don’t leave</em> because as long as Dean is here, he’s safe and Cas is safe and he knows he’s not there anymore, that the scenes playing on repeat in his head aren’t happening and he’s here, safe in the bunker; and he stops thinking for a split second and it comes out:</p>
<p>“Don’t go."</p>
<p>Their eyes meet and an expression Cas can’t quite place flits over Dean’s features, shock and something else, something he’s seen only a handful of times, something soft and warm and open in a way he can’t pinpoint. It takes him a moment to realise he’s holding his breath, waiting for Dean to say something because <em>god damn</em> he did not mean to let that slip. The heat rises, prickly and stifling along his neck and cheeks and he breaks eye contact, blinking down at the floor. He can still feel Dean’s eyes on him and although it’s not entirely uncomfortable, his own vulnerability scares him a little; shivering and raw in his chest, somewhere between a wounded animal and a black hole expanding to fill the space behind his ribs. There’s a beat before Dean breaks the silence.</p>
<p>“It’s alright, Cas. I’m not going anywhere.”</p>
<p>It takes a minute before Cas can process the words as Dean sits back down next to him, glancing across at him with that gentle look he gets sometimes, like when it’s just him and Cas in the front seat of the Impala and Cas is humming absently to whatever cassette's playing on full volume, the notes lost in the wind from the open passenger side window and Dean grins at him like he’s the sun, or when Cas tries to crack a joke and Dean tries his best to be irritated but the tell-tale twinkle in his eyes gives him away. Cas leans in to him so their knees and shoulders are almost touching and Dean notices the movement, slinging one arm over Cas’ shoulders and pulling him a little closer so he can rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. He closes his eyes for a moment, letting the pent-up tension in his limbs seep out.</p>
<p>“I'm right here.”</p>
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